Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Sareneth 23

Over the course of the next half hour, the officers of the Wormwood assembled in the captain’s cabin, settling around the dining table. At Peppery’s command, I stood behind her chair and kept my damn mouth shut while the rest filed in one at a time.

The first few to join us were Kroop, Grok, and the ship’s hunchbacked carpenter Mr. Quarne. I nodded at the cook as he pulled up an extra chair and sat at a corner of the table, but he sighed and turned away. As the rest filed in, he focused on his hands with a pensive frown.

Captain Barnabas Harrigan strode in last, flanked by Caulky and Plugg; I noted with displeasure that Plugg was wearing the jacket I’d enchanted. Harrigan tucked a spyglass into his jacket with a dramatic flourish. He sat down in his upholstered chair at the end of the table and wasted no time.

“Rahadoumi merchantman, probably headed for Sargava.” He began, “They’ve already seen us and turned tail, but fortunately they’ve got a shit engine. We should catch them in two days.”

“What about the colors?” Riaris Krine challenged him, “They’re flying Tempest Cay Flags. Can we really afford to pick a fight with the Master of Gales right now?”

“No,” Harrigan said lightly. “We can’t. That’s why no one can carry the news to him. Anyone who surrenders can join up or we can sell ‘em off in Bloodcove with the cargo.”

I stiffened at the reminder of what kind of ship I was on. Nobody seemed overly concerned by what he said, though Grok at least had the decency to look grim. Kroop still wouldn’t look at me.

“We covered our name.” Harrigan continued, “if they’ve got a way of sending word themselves, all he’ll know is that a warship ran them down, and we’ll have squibbed our prize long before she’s missed. Any more safety concerns? Get ‘em out now.”

“How much will we be using the new recruits?” Grok offered, “they’re still green, and I doubt more’n half of them have ever looked death in the face.”

“We’ll bring along a few for seasoning,” he said, nodding at me, “but we can’t afford too many weak links.”

I listened in on the planning session for premeditated robbery, murder, and enslavement of an entire ship full of Syl’s countrymen. I stayed quiet, as ordered, and with a sinking heart I reconciled with the fact that I’d be participating. It wasn’t even a question; long term I wanted my own ship and my own freedom. That meant holding my nose and rolling with it, and fighting Harrigan as I was now wouldn’t get me or the merchant anywhere.

I need to get off this ship. 

••••••••••

After the meeting, I was allowed to brief my team. Caulky, Sandara, and Jack all seemed likely to go along with the attack as standard procedure, but I had one more person on my team that deserved special consideration. I fetched Owlbear first, who was serving as a living forklift under Rosie’s gentle direction. All hands were on deck, working in shifts, so Syl was able to slip away in the chaos when I summarized the plan of attack.

“That’s the situation.” I explained grimly. “We’ve been given the specific job of cutting off escape with the lifeboats. I don’t think it will look good if we try to dodge it, but if you feel uncomfortable, I’m willing to try to get you out of the raiding party.”

It’d make things a lot harder to go in without my full team, but I don’t really want to force war crimes on anyone. 

“I don’t wanna.” Owlbear objected immediately. “Mom said don’t hurt people who aren’t hurting you.”

“I understand,” I assured him, “that’s why I asked. I’ll figure something out, at worst you’ll need to row the boat.”

“What happens to survivors?” Rosie asked with clear distaste. “We aren’t slaughtering the whole ship, are we?”

“No. The captain wants to capture as many people as possible.” I said. “They either get the same deal we did, or they are going to be sold as slaves in a port called Bloodcove.”

“Chelish colony.” Rosie spat. “They’ll be worked to death or sold abroad.”

“But they will live another day, either on the ship or on land,” Syl interjected pragmatically. “Can I go along instead of the big guy? Sandara can’t afford to use magic to heal enemies in the middle of a battle. Will you object if I focus on keeping them alive when they go down? It’s the only mercy we can offer.”

Rosie made a small growling sound in the back of her throat before nodding.

“I hate it.” She said, “but you’re right. Maybe you can scare them into surrendering or something.”

“Agreed.” I said. “I don’t think even the captain wants this to turn into a slaughter, even if for him that’s just economics. I’ll just have to figure things out as I go.”

The girls nodded, though Owlbear still wanted nothing to do with it. A shame; he did a lot of damage and almost all of it was nonlethal. Plus, he was a big wall of muscle. This would be harder without his help.

••••••••••

I made my preparations swiftly after planning with my friends, informing Jack about my questionably merciful intentions and inviting Caulky and Sandara to a nightly meeting. I bought the parade armor and a few daggers for Syl, secured permission from the captain to bring her along, and finally saw to my normal culinary duties with Kroop.

“I see what you mean.” I said over the cutting board. “It didn’t sink in until today, but I can see how this kind of work could wear someone down.”

“Yeah, well,” he grunted, “you do what you got to do to survive, okay? Just don’t let anyone get their hooks in you. Debt, drugs, a pretty face… I’ve seen them all drag people back. If you’re serious about staying in the business on your own terms, keep that in mind. If you’re your own man, you can probably figure something out you can live with.”

“Yeah.” I agreed. “I’ll remember that.”

I finished chopping and emptied the cutting board into my boss’s pan, then puttered around the galley cleaning up the daily mess. I’d only been gone for one day, and Kroop had already started to clutter up his work space again.

So. What kind of adventurer do I even want to be? The voices in my head seem pretty keen on me killing, fucking, and looting my way through life. I guess there’s also Architect of a Thousand Dreams, so I could try being the best boss ever, but not everyone who steps on a pirate ship is going to have a chill personal goal like “get home safely.” I certainly hope I don’t find enough stranded guys like Owlbear to make a career out of it. 

I don’t have to buy into my missions, I guess; I could always fuck off and start making magic weapons and armor. The crazy coffee-man career path is a little bit silly but I could probably make it work. I wouldn’t be getting stronger, but is that actually important? 

Yes. 

Elaborate? 

At minimum, you need to be strong enough or far enough abroad to ensure that Clan M’Dair cannot force you into service. They would do so without a second thought. Leaving the Shackles would accomplish this, but then you would need to worry more about your nature as a drow drawing unwanted attention. The remnants of the Winter Council would consider your death a sacred duty, if you attempted to live openly. You would need to be strong enough to fend them off instead. (Secret Knowledge: History 7+2=9)

Well there goes that plan. So, plan A is still to pump myself up as ethically as possible. Get off this ship ASAP, get my own ship, and see if I can find some adventures that include less war slave trading. Saving random noblewomen from zombie infested islands, for example. 

••••••••••

During dinner that night, there was a thread of tension running through the whole crew, the impending battle adding a sense of urgency or dread that magnified everyone’s normal behaviors. Sandara’s friends were dancing the night away and making outrageous bets at hog lob, throwing around more than a hundred gold pieces sometimes. Cog was brooding as hard as he could, sitting in a corner with a face like a thundercloud. The night shift was at double strength, since we were sailing full speed through the night, mostly consisting of new recruits that were seen as relatively low value.

The rest of the press ganged crew, my dinner group included, were mostly just scared. Few had any combat experience, and if Harrigan lost they would be at the mercy of strangers with no reason to sympathize. Conchobar and I hoped to lift their spirits with a recital, but I had a plan to put in place first.

“Okay Conchobar,” I said, pushing the fiddle into his hands. “I grabbed this while I was getting some better gear for Syl, but I’d suggest you tell Rosie you paid for it with your busking money.”

“I spent all my money bribing that Pathfinder in Goatshead, though!” He objected, “she’s not going to buy it.”

“I doubt she knows you spent all your money.” I reassured him, “if she calls you on it, just say that you borrowed the money from me and give me fifty gold later. It’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the instrument and holding it gently. “You’re sure?”

“You seem like a decent guy, and I’m not greedy.” I confirmed. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I actually cast a spell to see what she’s into.”

“What in the Nine Hells kind of spell does that?” He said.

“Detect sexuality.” I answered with a shrug. “Do you want the information or not? It won’t necessarily be good news, but it’s worth having, right?”

“Shoot.” He said.

“It said she’s into men that are brave, strong, kind, heroic, and taller than her.” I informed him, eliciting a wince at the last requirement, “the weirder part is that she apparently likes guys that have animal ears.”

“I think some catfolk live on Bag Island.” He grumbled. “Maybe she dated one. No sense worrying, though. Let’s see if we can give everyone something else to think about, eh?”

Rosie’s eyes, as we had hoped, lit up upon seeing the fiddle. When Conchobar revealed that it was a gift, he was rewarded with a crushing one armed hug. Unfortunately, there was not even a hint of romantic chemistry as the three of us sang and played the night away. I met his eyes, poured one out for him, and waited to see the true measure of a man: how he dealt with the friendzone.

By most metrics, it’s best to either drop it completely or make a Hail Mary play and ask her out directly with the expectation of a no. Setting aside any ethical considerations, it just makes sense tactically to not burn bridges unless she’s toxic as hell. If you maintain the relationship and move your boundaries appropriately, you can have a platonic hot female friend. Everyone knows hot girls are a magnet for other hot girls, and make the best wingmen if willing. 

At least in the moment, he didn’t let it get to him. He let out a sigh and kept playing his heart out for the rest of the night. I don’t believe he and Rosie talked much, except to discuss the next song to play. Even those exchanges tended to be abbreviated, as Rowe didn’t like it when he stopped for any reason. She was sitting at the front of the crowd, baring her fangs and swaying with the music.

“Keep playing flute, Pearl Teeth!” She shouted at Conchobar over the din, jabbing her spoon at him aggressively. “Fiddle will catch up!”

••••••••••

I invited Caulky, Syl, and Sandara to meet me that night in the kitchen. I’d gone the whole day without casting any spells, so I had a total of six spells left for the day. The three girls and I would each take one cast of Keep Watch, which left me with two spells left for an experiment.

“I’m going to try something new.” I warned them all. “It’s a spell that could be really useful, but I have a sense that it could backfire. If it does, I’ll need backup. Are you in?”

“Definitely.” Sandara agreed immediately.

“What is it?” Syl asked, a bit more cautious. “How do you expect it to backfire?”

“I’m going to summon an outsider and try to send it to harass the ship we are chasing.” I explained, figuring that was the most reasonable mission to give my first called outsider. “I might need to dismiss it, but it’s unlikely to run rampant unless I completely botch the spell. If I do, though, I think we can handle the one I have in mind.”

“That sounds awesome!” Caulky interjected, “I’m in.”

“Emrys, outsiders are dangerous.” Syl complained, “even the ones that seem nice are totally alien. You can’t trust them, and it’s a bad idea to even talk to them. They’ll try to drag you into some kind of giant thousand year long scheme.”

“I intend to work with them entirely on my own terms.” I assured her. “If they prove useful, I might call the same one a few times, but I don’t intend to extend too much trust. I’ll never take a deal one of them proposes unless I get to rewrite the contract in my own words.”

Might as well get some use out of that minor in business law; I guess it wasn’t resume filler after all. 

“Come on, it’ll be fine!” Sandara assured Syl, “with us three here, anything he could possibly summon is going to be mincemeat if it gets uppity.”

“Right. Which is why he intends to send one to harass an entire ship?” Syl said. “Is it completely harmless or is it enough to deal with fifty people alone?”

“Neither.” I explained, “I’m planning on summoning something called a Voidworm. They’re little flying constrictor snakes from the plane of chaos. They’re more mischievous and playful than they are dangerous, but this is a chase. If this thing is flying around the ship causing havoc, that could slow them down or make them less ready when we do catch up. It’s not likely to make or break the chase, but it could slow them down and I need practice.”

“Fine, let’s see what happens.” Syl relented, “Do we need to hold hands in a circle or something?”

“Nah. I’m pretty sure that’s only a seance thing.” Sandara answered.

“Yeah, you’re just here to provide muscle if it gets uppity.” I assured the girls. “So let’s do it. I’d like to get this done so I can cast Keep Watch.”

The creature I intended to summon was small, so I set the bounds of its confinement to be the dimensions of the prep table. I pictured a sturdy glass box to contain my target, and held the construct in my mind as I began the summoning. 

Closing my eyes, I reached out with a single tendril of magic, charged with chaos by the spell, calling out for a Voidworm. The tendril reached through one of the infinite tiny rifts connecting this Material Plane to the Maelstrom, the realm of chaos. There, like a fishhook baited with the idea of curiosity, it caught my target. 

I latched on, pulling the creature through a portal which existed for a fraction of a second. When I opened my eyes, a winged blue snake the size of my forearm was floating above the table. 

https://www.patreon.com/posts/protean-voidworm-97827396

“Foolish mortals!.” It raged in a squeaky voice. “Your pain shall be legendary! None shall survive!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered consolingly, “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I was in the middle of fucking your mother!” the Voidworm squeaked, “by the way, she says I’m bigger than you.”

Sandara snorted.

“Look, do you want to stay on the table all night or do you want to hear me out?”

“Oh sure, shoot.” It said, perking up, “I love making deals! Did you want eternal life? Dominion over the minds of men? To turn into a woman?”

“Uh… not really what I was going for today.” I answered, “can you do any of those things in the first place?”

“Emrys, that was obviously just bait.” Syl groaned.

“Of course not, stupid!” It laughed, “but mortals are stupid and ask for stupid things all the time.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to regain my footing, “so are you ready for me to tell you what I actually want?”

“Nah.” It answered, looking around the room. “Oh, are those goats?”

“Yes? Look, we aren’t here for goats.” I snapped. “There is a ship to the east of us.”

“That’s usually true if you go far enough, yeah.” The Voidworm interrupted me.

“I want you to go east,” I continued, “ and the first ship you see other than the one we are on right now will be your target.”

“Oh neat, but I don’t have hands.” He answered apologetically before turning to Caulky. “Can I borrow your gun? I promise I’ll throw it into the ocean when I’m done with it.”

“No?” Caulky answered, hardly containing a laugh, “sounds like a bad deal.”

“When you reach that ship, you may do whatever you want as long as you stay at all times on the ship or within ten feet of it.” I finished.

It was an open ended order, by design. Call Planar Creature allowed me to command obedience, but the more I deviated from the natural inclinations of the target the more easily they could resist. In theory I could tell a succubus to go and be a celibate nun for a few days, following the teachings of a good aligned god in word and deed, but if I tried it I’d take a -6 penalty to my roll to compel her to obey. In contrast, commanding this little chaos snake to go fuck with some mortals was essentially the equivalent of kidnapping someone and letting them go after two days eating pizza and playing Xbox.

The protean lunged at me with a cry of “freedom!” before stopping short, smashing into an invisible pane of glass and falling onto the table. The girls all started, going for their weapons, before the Voidworm turned into a tiny monkey and gave a thumbs up.

“I’m okay!” It sat up. “Sounds great, chief. Now about my payment?”

“Uh. I’m not paying you.” I told him. “If you don’t do it I’ll probably just send you back to the Maelstom.”

“No! Don’t do it man!” He cried, falling to his tiny monkey knees, “Do you know what they do in a place like that to someone with a face like this? I wouldn’t last a day.”

“Wait, isn’t that where you just were?” Syl asked, “Five minutes ago, at most?”

“Pfft. Mortals.” He snorted dismissively. “Linear time isn’t real. I bet you think air is real too.”

“But… it is?” Caulky objected. “Both of those things are obviously real!”

“Guys. It’s bait.” I said, “Probably best to not argue with him.”

“Her.” The monkey shaped voidworm chimed in.

“Sorry, her.” I amended my statement.

“It.” It corrected me.

I took a deep breath.

I laid out my terms. This’ll just be aggravating if I keep it around any longer. 

“Voidworm. I have made my terms known. Will you pursue and harass my enemy as you see fit, as I have requested, until such a time as my magic unravels or I dismiss you?” 

(Opposed charisma check.)

(Emrys 18+4+3=25)

(Voidworm 13+1=14)

“Fine.” The monkey dissolved into a long blue ribbon, which flew past me, squeezing under the door and zooming away to complete its mission.

“So.” I clapped my hands once. “How about cards?”

••••••••••

Tension continued to ratchet up over the course of the next day. Everyone got ship biscuit and slop since we were all on high alert, but since the officers were eating it twice Kroop mixed in some bacon and cured meats for flavor. It was good for the men’s morale, and the captain wouldn’t object if he was benefitting too.

Peppery stood with her hands against the mast, glowing runes dancing across its wooden surface. As she focused, the winds around our ship picked up and carried the Wormwood towards our foe. The cost of this rather large speed boost was that the rigging required far more active management, which meant that the riggers passed their secondary duties on to the swabs. The raiding party, consisting of officers and veterans from Harrigan’s disaster in Cheliax plus my team, were taken off of active duty around noon. We were to rest, relax, and review our part in the assault.

I informed Harrigan of my voidworm trick when he started nervously pacing the deck, muttering about what the mysterious fog clouds and dancing lights around the ship might mean. When I let him know that they were slowing down because an insane flying snake was harassing them instead of signaling for an ally to ambush us, he laughed and slapped me on the back hard enough to do four nonlethal damage.

“Good thinking, lad.” He guffawed, “but by Besmara’s tits, let me know about these things.”

The distance to our prey, the Man’s Promise, shrank by the minute.